Passion
by Erestory
Summary: Jackson has come to claim his prize.  Warning: Character Deaths


**Passion It lies in all of us sleeping, waiting and though unwanted unbidden it will stir. Open it's jaws and howl.**

Lisa stirred up something dark inside him that Jackson thought was dead. He suddenly flared to light at his first sight of her. That's why he followed Lisa for eight weeks instead of two. That's why Jackson trapped her in the bathroom and held Lisa against the wall in Joe's house. The flash of her auburn hair begging to be pulled and yanked, Lisa's eyes darkening with fear and her heart shaped lips opening to gasp air into her body. It is in those moments when Jackson really feels alive, that he feels the world shutter and groan at his feet.

**It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all and we obey. What other choice do we have?**

He should stay away from her but he can't. No matter where Leese goes or where she hides it's doesn't matter. His darkness seeks her, demands her presence and he gives in to it's cravings for fear he'll go mad. It wants to enter Lisa's house and he does while she wastes away at the hotel. Jackson straightens her pillows, rinses out her glasses and laughed at her choice in movies. These are simple things that make up the life of the woman sleeping on the bed. He stroked his lady's cheek gently and inhales the sweet perfume of her hair. Then time draws near and Jackson must leave her spread across the satin sheets but it's not forever. Every time he leaves her shadow the fire dies in him and screams to be returned again and he obeys.

**Passion is the source of your finest moments: the joys of love, the clarity of hatred and the ecstasy of grief. **

Her father is dead, killed by a heart attack that has forever been hovering over the horizon. Lisa cries for days, her head buried in the pillows that swallows her tears. She barely eats and toss and turns her nights away haunted by memories and regrets. When his lady leaves for the funeral, Jackson visits her home. Her bedroom reeks of her sweet scent but it is tainted with sadness and depression. He longs to forever wipe the tears from her eyes as they scream their hatred for him. He leaves a rose on her pillow.

There was a formal convention at the hotel that her friend dragged her to. Finally Lisa comes home already dressed for their date upon which he never asked her. His queen is neither surprised nor alarmed to see Jackson there as though she has been waiting for him a long time. Lisa watches him tense but never moving, letting him approach her slowly. She is wearing a long black dress and high heels, her make up is smudged and runny from tears. He believes Lisa has never been more beautiful. The darkness is roaring, screaming, begging it's prize and who was Jackson to deny them? He leans forward and breathes in the scent of her skin and tastes the spice scented conditioner her hair. Jackson wraps his arms around her and cradle her to his chest.

"_Please." _She begs and Lisa does it so nicely. It makes the fire in his blood burn ever hotter and his vision is tainted red.

"_Mine."_ He whispers before pressing his lips against her, swimming in her scent and flying on the power of her fear. She fights and o how she fights! The darkness beckons to him and wants it's sacrifice and Jackson has no choice but obey. His hands rise to Lisa's neck and as they stare into each other's eyes he snaps her neck. The light and fight leaves her eyes but not before she makes a sacrifice of her own. He lowers her to the middle of the bed and only when he is bent over her does he feel the pain. Leese has stabbed him in the chest when he was taking her life. His body crumbles beside her and the darkness is finally satisfied as the ritual ends. The fire in Jackson's blood cools and his heart slows as blood leaks from his lips. Jackson kisses Lisa one more time before following her into the light instead of the darkness that claims those who die while they live.

**It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we know some kind of peace, but we would be hollow. Empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion, we be truly dead. **_– Angelus, Buffy the Vampire Slayer_


End file.
